


Rupert Lestrade-Holmes (ABANDONED)

by VincentMeoblinn



Series: Perfect Match Omegaverse [4]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Omegaverse, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VincentMeoblinn/pseuds/VincentMeoblinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the early years of young Rupert Lestrade-Holmes and his family, all from the eyes of the young man himself. To be continued on Dreamwidth http://vincentmeoblinn.dreamwidth.org/</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

 

Gregory Lestrade leaned forward and scooped his tiny son from his bassinet, carrying him slowly over to his mother. Mycroft was tired and raised his arms weekly for their son, smiling serenely as Lestrade helped position the baby against one tiny breast.

They had been through hell and back to have this child together; everything from denying their bond, mock Heats, Mycroft’s kidnapping, and then Mycroft’s shaky health towards the end of the pregnancy. The doctors had already advised them both to donate Mycroft’s eggs, explaining that another pregnancy would likely be fatal. Mycroft’s blood pressure had been uncontrollable towards the end, so Mycroft had been placed on steroids to promote the baby’s early development and a date set for delivery; two weeks later they were both still in the hospital. Mycroft’s body seemed unable to settle post-partum and the baby was weak and frighteningly quiet.

Sherlock and John came to visit the next day, Sherlock sporting a large baby bump and John alternating between growling at everyone protectively and staring lustily at his Omega. Lestrade understood the feeling, though he hadn’t become quite so hot and bothered over Mycroft’s bump. Good thing since it apparently wouldn’t be happening again, not if he had anything to say about it.

“So what name have you two picked out?” John had asked conversationally.

“Rupert,” Lestrade had replied cheerily.

“Couldn’t talk him out of it, eh?” John chuckled.

“Oi! That’s a family name! From _my_ side,” Lestrade scolded, punching his arm mockingly, “What about you two, Sherlock still won’t bend on letting you find out the gender?”

“No,” John stated, wrinkling up his nose, “And he won’t even discuss names. He says there’s no point until we see the baby and learn its personality. I’m afraid he or she won’t be named for the first year of their life.”

“Was he like that over BG?” Lestrade asked, not having been there for Sherlock’s first ‘pregnancy’.

“No, he picked ‘Gregory’ immediately, but then the baby came early and we hadn’t even discussed it yet, so BG was already in his arms when he decided on it. Everything was… touchy, back then.”

The squirmy child in question bounced in his namesake’s arms while blowing spit bubbles. Lestrade laughed and nuzzled his head affectionately.

“Well, you’ve already got a Greg, so you’ll have to think of something else. Just don’t do Mycroft. Please? It would just be weird.”

John laughed and scooped up his son, who was reaching for him again. He loved to be passed back and forth and was soon in Lestrade’s arms again. From the bedside they heard Sherlock sniffling but were careful not to notice. He had been a bit weepy for the last month, but would fly off the handle if someone mentioned it or even looked at his tears; offering him a tissue was a punishable offense. John did take a cautious glance over to see that Sherlock was sitting on the edge of Mycroft’s bed holding little baby Rupert. That explained the tears.

Sherlock shifted baby Rupert back into Mycroft’s arms and excused himself to use the loo. John followed him in despite the fact it was a private one.

“If they start shagging in there…” Lestrade sighed.

“They’ve got Baby Greg with them, and besides that they’re young, Gregory, and in love; give them their space. We’ve already had sex in your office twice, and I don’t believe we shut the blinds last time. We don’t even have the excuse of youth!”

Lestrade snorted, but didn’t argue otherwise. He was watching Mycroft gently ease their son onto his breast again. The baby ate every two hours on the dot and it was exhausting the aristocrat. Lestrade would gladly have gone through the discomfort of milk dropping and sore nipples in order to give his precious Omega even just a few hours of nonstop sleep. He’d tried easing the baby onto his breasts while the man was asleep, but Omegas were so tuned into the sounds a baby made that even the tiniest of whimpers from Rupert had him startling awake. Good thing, too, since the child only rarely cried. Still, he was gaining weight and Mycroft was loosing it, so Lestrade assumed that the worse was over with.

Once Rupert had been fed and winded Lestrade scooped their little boy up and took him over to the window to look out at the city.

“See that, Rupert, my lad? That’s London. Your Dad, Mother, and uncles keep this city safe for you. That way, when you grow up you can have a family of your own.”

Mycroft had insisted on being called ‘mother’ instead of mum, mummy, mommy, or the dreaded mamma. Lestrade thought he was nuts, but he wasn’t about to argue with his Sub over something so unimportant. Nearly loosing him had put a great deal in perspective. Lestrade turned back to ask his bondmate a question, but found the man snoring softly with his gown still open and a bit of milk leaking down his chest. Lestrade put their sleepy son down in his bassinet and did up Mycroft’s gown, but only after leaning down to swipe up that stray bit of milk. It tasted like cantaloupe and made him chuckle. Soon. Soon he would have his lover and their beautiful son home and safe. Life would resume and they would be a family.

Soon.

[CHAPTER TWO](http://vincentmeoblinn.dreamwidth.org/75930.html)


	2. Chapter 2

“We are NEVER doing this again,” Gregory snarled, throwing back the comforter and storming out of their room in a temper.

Mycroft slowly and carefully climbed out of bed, taking several deep slow breaths to avoid bursting into tears. His weepiness from the pregnancy had not let off since Rupert’s birth, and it was little consolation to him that Sherlock was equally mawkish. He made his slow shuffling way over to the bassinet full of screaming baby. The month in the hospital had been good for his recovery, but had spoiled him since he could just call in a Beta nurse to take Rupert to the hospitals nursery and feed him pumped milk whenever Mycroft was too drained to function. That had been important for his recovery, and the nursing staff had encouraged him to take advantage of it, but now he was nearly out of his skull trying to keep up with Rupert’s many needs. To compound it all, he seemed to have taken a dislike to their home and now slept and ate in twenty-minute increments each. 20 awake and nursing, 20 asleep, 20 awake and nursing, 20 asleep…

Mycroft sat in the rocking chair with child to teat, and wiped the tears from his pretty red tufts. It wasn’t until Gregory leaned forward and dabbed at Mycroft’s face that he realized they were his own.

“My, I’m sorry I yelled. I’m just tired and frustrated. Here, I brought you water and some soup in a mug. Doctor says you’re to eat whenever he does, though at this rate you’ll be the size of a house if you do that,” Gregory chuckled.

“Actually my body will be burning fuel at a higher caloric rate due to my lack of sleep and milk production,” Mycroft replied half-heartedly.

“My genius,” Gregory murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“What time is it?”

“Thirty minutes after the last time you asked me. He’s still only sleeping for twenty at a time.”

“My mind is so scrambled, I can’t recall what you last told me,” Mycroft replied, trying and failing to hold back a sob.

“Half past four in the A.M. love. Are you sure we shouldn’t see the doctor again?” Gregory asked, meaning Mycroft’s near constant weeping.

“They said it would ease soon,” Mycroft replied, meaning Rupert’s sleep schedule.

Gregory nodded and collapsed into bed again to get what little sleep he could. He was soon snoring. Mycroft adjusted the pillow supporting his son against his chest and rested his head to try and sleep as well. Ten minutes later Rupert woke him while squirming about uncomfortably from the gas in his belly, so Mycroft lifted him to his shoulder and tried to stay awake while winding him. Once that was done he gave up his attempts to put the babe in his bassinet and simply laid him back down on the pillow in his lap. Seconds later they were both sleeping peacefully.

Twenty minutes later Rupert woke Mycroft again with a tiny whimper and he jolted a bit, his hands automatically steadying the fragile bundle in his arms. He got the cub to his nipple so quickly this time that Gregory only snorted and rolled over. It was an Omega’s curse to wake to every sniffle their newborn made; it was an Alphas to wake to every unhappy sound their Omega made, so it wasn’t until Mycroft started his near-silent weeping again that Gregory struggled out of bed.

“Soup?”

“A berry smoothie, I think,” Mycroft sobbed, grabbing a tissue and blowing his nose.

“We’re never doing this again,” Gregory muttered as he left the room.

Mycroft looked down at the child in his arms and knew it was true. He hadn’t told his Alpha that he’d requested they take his eggs during the c-section. The doctor had played it off and simply advised them not to have any more kids due to the danger to Mycroft’s health, which was true anyway. That didn’t make it hurt less, and Mycroft was spending as much time mourning the children he wouldn’t have as he was trying to survive the one he did.

This one looked like Gregory, but had his red hair, would the next have been the reverse? Would the next have been a girl? A boy? What if all of Sherlock’s little ones and this one turned out to be Betas, as could very well statistically happen? He’d have to track down his own eggs to find an heir, and that was assuming any of them were fertile or even had found a uterus to hold them by then.

He would have to make sure Gregory slept through the next few rounds. The poor man had work tomorrow... well, today. Mycroft pressed a kiss to his fingertips and then laid them on his son’s cheek before closing his eyes and trying to relax. If he could just get a little bit of sleep… Just a few hours…

 

_This is basically the story of my first six weeks with my daughter, and yes, I cried every time she did. It’s rough when your little ones don’t sleep._

[CHAPTER THREE](http://vincentmeoblinn.dreamwidth.org/76274.html)


	3. vincentmeoblinn | Rupert Lestrade-Holmes Ch 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omega children are toddlers at three months old. That is when they start standing, crawling/toddling, and speaking.

_Note: Omega children are toddlers at three months old. That is when they start standing, crawling/toddling, and speaking._

Mycroft woke up exactly one minute before his alarm went off. He clicked it into the off position and pressed a kiss to his sleeping Dom’s cheek. Gregory grunted in his sleep, instinctively flexing his muscles and arching his hips suggestively. Mycroft chuckled and shook his head; even in their sleep Alpha’s automatically sought out sex.

Mycroft stepped into his walk-in closet, shut the door, and flicked on the light. Twenty minutes later he stepped out, impeccably dressed and ready to face the world and anything they might try to throw at Britain. He turned out the light and opened the other door within the closet that lead into his son Rupert’s room.

Rupert had gone from miserable baby to cheerful toddler almost overnight. One morning Mycroft had awoken with sore teats and the realization his son hadn’t woken him up in _twelve hours_. He’d fled to the room in terror, expecting to find an empty crib or a cold still child. Instead he had startled the poor thing awake only to be greeted by a cheerful smile. So it had continued every day since. He occasionally woke in the night as he teethed, but other than that he slept the entire night through from 8PM to 8AM. Mycroft bragged about it to anyone who would listen, and was much envied by his fellow Omegas whose babies were still waking every 3-5 hours.

Rupert was quickly dressed in a tiny suit similar to Mycroft’s, though it was one single piece that snapped at the inseam of his legs instead of a proper ensemble. Mycroft settled his tot on his hip and headed downstairs, listening to his cheerful morning babble. Mycroft had started weaning him at three months, as was standard, and he was now completely on cereal and veggies; they were starting fruits in a few days. Mycroft sat him down, covered him in a neck to toe bib, covered himself in a spare tablecloth, and began the mission that was feeding his son.

Rupert grabbed the spoon, studied the texture in his hand, and then promptly smeared it through his hair. Then he accepted the next bite, gulped it down, and demanded the next before Mycroft had a chance to scoop it. Finally he managed to grab the bowl out of Mycroft’s hand when he accidentally leaned too far forward (to wipe the food out of his hair) and threw it across the room a rather remarkable distance. Mycroft chuckled, shook his head, and fetched a fresh bowl to start the entire process again.

When they arrived at the office Mycroft slipped him out of his car seat and into a sling, where he cooed happily and waved at the people they passed on the way to Mycroft’s office. Even the Diogenes club smiled and waved back, though still soundlessly. Mycroft’s office had been converted for his new breeding lifestyle, as most were once the cycle started, and Mycroft gave the wall of vertical cribs- which were two cribs tall, four across, and opened sideways like cupboards- a sad look. There would _be_ no more babies after Rupert to fill up these cots, and it tortured him to know that.

He had finally confessed the truth to Gregory just last night, sobbing into his shoulder as he told him he _couldn’t_ give him any more children; that unless they used hormones to imitate it he would not even go on Heat again. His precious lover had held him tightly and told him that as much as he wanted more little Holmes’, he didn’t want it at the cost of his beloved Sub. Mycroft had cried himself to sleep, but he now felt at peace with the situation. If he really wanted to, he could find a Beta with a partially functional uterus whom they could implant his and Gregory’s fetuses into. He had six eggs to work with. Doctors recommended for that sort of implantation that it be all or nothing; all six fertilized eggs and the hope that at least one would take.

Mycroft’s office was baby proofed, so he placed Rupert down on the floor to play rather than in the confining cribs. He walked around his desk, keyed on his laptop, and checked his messages on his phone while he waited for it to wake up. Then he checked his e-mails and hit the button on his mobile to play his voicemails. Lately he had been communicating less from home, dedicating more of his time there to Rupert, but Anthea still had an emergency ring tone she could activate if he was needed.

Mycroft frowned at a few inconvenient dignitaries who were attempting a coup, laughed at a drug runners attempts to infiltrate their ranks, and calmly ordered Anthea to have an agent retired who was clearly suffering from the strain. The man wouldn’t remember his name by morning, but he’d be well cared for and his family would be able to bury him of old age instead of wondering why he simply didn’t return home one day. It was rare an agent was retired, but Mycroft preferred it to letting them burn out and risking the exposure that resulted in; case and point the one that resulted in Mycroft going on Heat in a bombed out building over a year ago.

Rupert was playing with a cheerfully singing toy when Eric entered with a smile and a wave at the tot, which he returned eagerly.

“He’s getting so big, I hardly recognize him,” Eric crowed, “When will we be expecting another.”

“Ah, well, we won’t, actually.”

“What? Back on suppressants? At your age, that’s hardly conducive. You do want to be patriotic, don’t you?”

“Extremely, but I’m afraid my body disagrees with me.”

Eric looked aghast, “My gods, Mycroft, I am so sorry. I had no idea. When did you find out? It’s too soon to be late for Heat…”

“No, no, I’ve known all along, but my Dom and I only just discussed it. The doctors insisted my eggs be removed when Rupert was delivered by cesarean. They feared for my life.”

“Oh, dear, and is our worry past?”

“Decidedly. I have many more decades ahead of me so long as I don’t carry another child to term. I have retained the eggs, but we haven’t decided what to do with them yet. My brother is young, but currently fertile, so that is not an option at the moment. I have no female Beta, and we’ve had difficulty bonding with one, so we’re at our wits end there as well.”

“Such a tragedy to befall you both, and after all you’ve been through. Is Anthea not willing…?”

“No uterus, she had herself checked. Apparently she guessed it all, the delightful woman.”

“She is quite brilliant, most mistake her for an Omega until they get close enough to smell her.”

“Mmmm,” Mycroft agreed, watching his son beat one toy with another.

“Alpha, do you think?”

“It’s so hard to tell at this age, but he doesn’t seem overly intelligent. Still, that’s no guarantee. My brother, who is easily one of the most intelligent Omegas in the country – if also the most juvenile – didn’t walk until he was eight months old.”

“No!”

“Yes, Mummy was quite distraught. Although, seeing him now I am convinced it was sheer laziness.”

They both shared a laugh and then got down to business, Eric producing a folder and them debating on whether or not to bring outside help in on the matter.

Finally the long day was ended and Mycroft packed Rupert up in his sling, stuffed the empty food containers back in his briefcase, and headed out the door after securing the lock again. Rupert fell asleep in his mother’s arms on the way out the door; his head cradled on Mycroft’s shoulder and his little hand holding the edge of the sling. Mycroft eased him into the car seat and they headed home. He stirred a bit as Mycroft lifted him out and carried him inside the house, but was soon breathing evenly again.

Gregory was still not home, so Mycroft placed Rupert in his little cot in the family room and settled down with a book and a scotch. When Gregory returned his scent woke the baby who squealed happily and clamored to be picked up.

“He adores you,” Mycroft smiled.

“He’d better. I’m his Da.”

“Dadadadadadada!” Rupert shouted out, and they both froze and stared at each other in shock.

“His first…” Mycroft breathed.

“My gorgeous son!” Gregory shouted, tossing the lad into the air and making Mycroft’s heart stop.

“Don’t do that!”

“Oh, pish! I’m going to call John and Sherlock!” Gregory placed the cheerful tot on his lap in his favorite chair and started dialing.

Mycroft chuckled and left him to it, heading into the kitchen to fix them dinner. He insisted on serving the meal, though the cook prepared it ahead of time; his need to serve his Dom had to be sated somehow, especially with the long hours they both kept. Once he had the lovely casserole and salads placed on a cart, with the slices of pie on the shelf below next to their glasses of wine, he wheeled it into the family dining room and rang the bell to let Gregory know dinner was served. Gregory placed Rupert into his highchair and tucked in while Mycroft negotiated his own meal and Rupert’s. He inevitably ended up eating cold food and forgetting all about his desert. His wine ended up spilled, which wasn’t abnormal either.

Finally Rupert was practically dozing in his chair, so Mycroft cleaned his little face and hands and tucked him into bed. Gregory hovered to the side pressing kisses to the drifting child’s head before Mycroft insistently tugged him out the door.

“You’re so lucky,” Gregory sighed, “You see him all day long, yes I know that’s tiring, but you have no idea what it’s like to miss him all day. It’s like this ache… I know Alphas aren’t supposed to be as attached, but he’s still my _son_ and I want to spend more time with him!”

“He did say your name first, he must know you.”

“Probably because you complain about me all day to him,” Gregory teased with a soft kiss to Mycroft’s cheek.

“Hmmmm, perhaps I deserve punishing, then,” Mycroft hinted.

Gregory grinned, the tired lines vanishing from his face.

“Hmmmm, maybe you could do with a spanking or two.”

“The dungeon?”

“I’ll grab the monitor, you change into something sexy,” Gregory winked at him and rushed into their bedroom like a kid headed for Christmas presents.

Mycroft chuckled and headed into the _back_ of his walk-in closet, perusing the outfits he had laid out. Something youthful… to make him feel as though he hadn’t failed his Alpha entirely…

Costume donned Mycroft marched down the stairs and smirked at the hungry gasp from Gregory. The man was readying the torture chair and Mycroft shivered in anticipation.

“My,” Gregory growled, “ **Kneel**.”

[CHAPTER FOUR](http://vincentmeoblinn.dreamwidth.org/76437.html)


	4. vincentmeoblinn | Rupert Lestrade-Holmes Ch 4

Rupert snuggled into Mummy’s arms and whimpered miserably. He had no idea why his head hurt so much, but it was simply unbearable and he was certain it would never end. It wasn’t that awful ache that he sometimes got that meant he needed to knaw on something; this was further back in his head. His nose was not working properly and he was certain if he lay down he would stop breathing. The thought was so horrible that he shrieked whenever Mummy tried to put him down. He had little appetite, but was unbearably thirsty. Since his nose wasn’t working properly, drinking was difficult so he was taking small sips while Mummy held him close and kept him sitting up.

Every once in a while Mummy would switch out the water or milk with some horrid fruity-tasting substance. He was rather annoyed with that and each time he saw the syringe for it he fought it off, but he was no match for Mummy’s strength. Finally Daddy came home and he voiced his complaint of Mummy’s behavior. Daddy smiled and kissed his cheek.

“Mummy mean!!”

“Mummy’s being mean to you? Why?”

“Don know.”

“Ah, well, maybe Mummy just wants to take good care of you and it’s not always what you want,” Daddy advised wisely.

Rupert considered this a moment, but it was a really a rather silly idea, even if Mummy had been saying so all day.

“No!” He insisted.

“Sorry buddy,” Daddy said, kissing him gently, “Your Mum makes the rules where you are concerned. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

Oh, Rupert understood. Mummy did what Daddy said or Mummy got punished. Rupert did what Mummy said or Rupert got punished. Daddy did what Mummy said where Rupert was concerned or Daddy slept on the couch in the den. Simple. Still, he’d hoped Mummy would get at least a _small_ punishment for making him take medicine.

Silly Daddy.  
  


[CHAPTER FIVE](http://vincentmeoblinn.dreamwidth.org/76779.html)

 


	5. vincentmeoblinn | Rupert Lestrade-Holmes Ch 5

SPOILERS for Perfect Match Chapter 44

Rupert stood up on unsteady feet and headed over to his cousins. They’d been spending a great deal of time over lately, along with his uncle John. Rupert liked his uncle John, despite him smelling strange. John smelled like a father but acted like a mother sometimes. It made Rupert confused, but he still had fun with the odd man. He misses his mum and all the time they used to spend together at the office, but his screams had gone unanswered and he’d eventually resigned himself to spending time with John and his cousins instead. At least now he had someone to play with even if Aiden was dull.

Aiden had a habit of glaring at Rupert that he was planning on correcting soon, but he’d been sick lately so Rupert wasn’t bothering him. Then suddenly this new addition had shown up and Rupert wasn’t sure what to do with him. The new addition acted a bit like BG in that he did what Rupert told him to do, which made Rupert happy but it seemed to instigate Aiden to be more rebellious. Rupert couldn’t tolerate that for much longer, but Aiden was still sickly and Rupert felt too protective of him to actually punish him.

Finally a few days had passed and Aiden was playing and walking again. He’d even been tussling with the new darker haired and skinned boy. Rupert studied them for a bit and then toddled over with his head held high the way he’d seen his father behave when around his other kith and kin. Rupert gave Aiden and the new darker skinned child a forceful tug to the ground and then glared at them, waiting to see if they would fight back. Aiden glared and Rupert saw him twitch protectively towards the new boy. That was fine. Aiden _should_ protect the new boy. He was important. The new boy was fine with Rupert’s rules so he ignored him. Aiden pulled the new boy to the other side of the room to play alone. Also fine, Rupert decided, lifting his chin and eyebrow just in case they should look over. He was _allowing_ them to play alone, and it was important they had that distinction down.

Rupert glanced at BG, but found no reason to cow him as his behavior was nothing short of perfect. Instead he went to read a book by himself until Aiden felt less insolent. His uncle and the new boy’s pack were talking about BG, but BG was uninteresting so Aiden ignored it. He did hear food mentioned, but since it was already being seen to he had no reason to put up a fuss.


	6. Chapter 6

BG 13, Aiden 11, Rupert 12, A&V 10, W&J 5.5  
  
WARNING: Discussion of self harm. WARNING: Tag update- Transgender OC

Rupert answered his bedroom door and gave his mother a surprised stare, “Mum? You okay?”

“Yes,” Mycroft replied, “And no. May I come in? There’s something we need to speak of.”

“At nearly midnight?”

“It’s past, actually,” Mycroft replied, “My work keeps me up late.”

Rupert let his mother inside and he sat himself down on the empty second bed. It was meant to be for his brother but he’d recently refused to share the room with him. Instead he stayed with his twin sister and had been behaving strangely lately. None of them quite knew what to do about them so they were waiting and watching cautiously as strange marks appeared on his skin.

“Is this about William?” Rupert worried.

“Yes and no. You understand that William and Jounette are twins, and that Joanette is an Alpha female?”

“Yes?”

“And that we’ve been worried about marks we’ve seen on William’s arms and legs?” While Mycroft spoke he fiddled with the sleeve of his dressing gown, revealing an abrasion on his arms. Alarmed, Rupert looked away from them. They were intimate. He’d been taught in school- by classmates, not teachers- never to look at someone’s intimate marks.

“Do… Do I want to know where this is going?”

“Ru, don’t look away from them. I want you to see,” Mycroft stated, rolling up both sleeves, “Your father gave me these. They’re a mark of how much he loves me.”

“Mom, this is just  _gross_. I don’t want to know what you and dad get up to in bed.”

“It isn’t about that,” Mycroft sighed, “I am a busy man. I’ve rarely given you what you need from an Omega.”

“That’s not true,” Rupert replied, but he knew his response was dry.

“I want you to know several important things about being an Alpha, as you undoubtedly are.”

“Then where’s  _dad_?” Rupert asked, irritated by his mother’s odd behavior.

“These are things only an Omega can tell you,” Mycroft replied softly.

“Umm… maybe my first Omega will tell me.”

“Rupert.  _Look at them_ ,” Mycroft held up his wounds again, placing them together as if his wrists were still cuffed.

“Ew,  _mom_!” Rupert replied, standing up from his bed and walking anxiously towards the bookcase.

“You  _can_  find what I’m trying to show you in a book if that helps,” Mycroft said softly with a sigh, “But it’s not the same.”

“Why don’t you just spit it out already!”

“The marks on Williams arms are self inflicted. The angle is wrong for someone else to have done it to him- voluntarily or otherwise.”

“Will is hurting himself?” Rupert asked, turning around in alarm.

“I’m afraid so,” Mycroft replied with a sigh, “We were aware from the start based on patterns. That’s what I want to talk to you about. There are three types of patterns that an Alpha must  _always_  be aware of-“

“I don’t  _care_!” Rupert burst out, “What’s wrong with my baby brother?!”

Mycroft blinked and then switched gears, “You’ve heard recently in the newspapers that Alpha and Omega births have been on the rise, haven’t you?”

“This had  _better_  be about Will!”

“It is. Theorists believe that the low Beta birthrate means that they eventually won’t be born anymore. Our own family is a prime example as it’s full of Alphas and Omegas, with the  _possible_ exception of one or both of Sherlock’s youngest two. In my generation  _two_  A/O children were a rarity. It’s now a norm. Though he tries to hide it, we suspect BG is a deviant of some sort like your uncles. That’s  _very_  rare and not genetic, which means it may also be happening more commonly. Due to some strange behavior on his part we had William tested young and found out his gender. Since he wasn’t behaving normally for a child his age we were told to start treating him as the gender he tested as. It was a mistake.”

“What? Why?” Rupert asked, “My instincts say to treat him as an Omega. What’s wrong with that?”

“I hear you,” Mycroft nodded, “And your instincts are spot on as they usually are- surprisingly accurate as most people can’t tell the gender of a child- but it is  _imperative_  that he be treated as an Alpha.”

“Wh-what?” Rupert asked, “That makes no sense.”

“William is trans, Ru,” Mycroft smiled softly, “It’s not uncommon for a child to express their gender early like you and Aiden, but we made the mistake of  _telling_  him what he was  _supposed_  to be. Even before we started treating him as an Omega he had felt displaced and disgusted by his body. Now he has begun to self harm as a result. We’ve been taking him to see a therapist and today the damn burst. He told us he feels like an Alpha female, like his sister. His therapist doesn’t think it’s out of a longing to be like his sister, but a genuine body dysphoria. We’re going to discuss hormone treatment if his dedication continues for a few more years, but in the mean time we are  _not_  treating this as a phase. I meant to tell you and your siblings tomorrow, but I suppose it’s fitting I tell you first as his pack Alpha…”

“How can I be pack Alpha if I didn’t see this coming?” Rupert asked in horror, sinking back down onto his bed, “He was sharing a room with me until two weeks ago!”

“ _That’s_  what I wanted to discuss with you,” Mycroft replied, and held out his wrists again. This time Rupert leaned forward anxiously to pear at the marks, “You can’t blame yourself for what your education has lacked. I will  _teach_  you what to look for.”

“They look like they hurt.”

“They do,” Mycroft replied with a fond smile, “But it’s not a type of pain Dominants are capable of feeling. It’s a… warm pain. A good pain. That’s not our focus at the moment, though. Look at the angle of the abrasions; see how they turn in here and here? That’s your indication that I wasn’t resisting when they were put on and that any struggles weren’t a result of an attempt to escape. Now look here-“

Rupert winced as Mycroft lifted his right trouser leg to reveal a wound on his angle, “I asked your father to do this, but I resisted throughout it. Do you see the difference?”

“Yes,” Rupert said softly.

“Then there’s this,” The other trouser leg was rolled up and Rupert bit his lower lip. It looked just like the small wounds that had appeared on Will lately.

“What do I call him now?”

“Will is fine in a pinch, but never William. Wilhelmina is what he-  _she_ \- prefers.”

“This is scary,” Rupert said, fighting back tears. He was nearly a teenager. He couldn’t  _cry_. Not even in front of his mother.

“Will’s changes?”

“No. Will hurting himself. I don’t want m br- _sister_  to be that sad. Ever,” Rupert blinked and the tears escaped.

Mycroft came up off of Will’s bed and pulled Rupert into his arms, hugging his eldest child tightly. Through his own shaking sobs he felt his mother’s body shake with fearful misery as well.

“Oh, my baby,” Mycroft whispered, but it wasn’t directed at Rupert. He took it anyway, and held his mother back.

When they finally parted it was for Rupert to be tucked into bed like a small child, petted and kissed and cooed over. When Mycroft left Rupert slipped out of bed quietly and crossed the hall. He knocked politely and entered at the sleepy call. Will and Joun were both curled up in her bed together. Will’s eyes were puffy from crying and he was shaking a bit despite the fact it was obvious he’d been sleeping when Rupert had knocked. Medication. H- _she_  was being  _medicated_. His baby br- _sister_  was on psychiatricmeds and shaking through hi- _her_  first symptoms.

“Hey,” Rupert said, sitting on the bed.

“What’s wrong?” Will asked, always the caring one.

“Just wanted to come over and check up on my beautiful little sisters,” Rupert replied softly.

Wilhelmina’s eyes went wide, and then she burst into tears and threw herself into Rupert’s arms. Rupert held the little body close, petting her hair and rocking her gently. Jounette wrapped her arms around Will’s back from behind and sobbed against her shoulder blades.

“I don’t want to lose either of you,” Rupert whispered softly, “You be whoever you need to be, Wilhelmina, and let me know if I’m not being who you need me to be for you. I love you both  _so much_.”

Wilhelmina sobbed out a reply but it was mangled so Rupert just kept petting her and rocking her until both girls drifted off. Then he moved their pliant, trusting bodies into comfortable positions in bed and tucked them both in. He stopped by each cousin’s rooms in turn before heading to bed, comforted in the knowledge that his pack was safe.  _For now_.


End file.
